


Microwave Blunder

by Akira_of_the_Twilight



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Shenanigans, M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 11:01:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5002183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akira_of_the_Twilight/pseuds/Akira_of_the_Twilight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone puts aluminum foil in the microwave.</p>
<p>That someone does not get dinner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Microwave Blunder

Chris was dead tired when he arrived home. Today was one of those days when he wished his only responsibility in life was hunting supernatural creatures. He’d had a customer that had been adamant that Chris could sell him a gun without the proper paperwork (the guy has spent thirty minutes arguing with Chris), which resulted in Chris having to call in the police.

Of course, life was cruel, and it was just his luck that Sheriff Stilinski arrived later to retrieve the security footage of the suspicious customer.

Sheriff Stilinski still wasn’t pleased about Chris dating Stiles, and he made it well known.

Chris suspected the only reason why Sheriff Stilinski hadn’t shot him yet was because Stiles was also dating Peter, and Peter took the brunt of Sheriff Stilinski’s rage.

Chris lumbered through his home. He paused at the living room to check on Stiles, who had sprawled out on the floor with his college textbooks and was playing a video game.

“Hey, babe. Rough day?” Stiles never took his eyes off the screen.

Chris grunted. “Where’s Peter?”

“Neither of us wanted to cook, and we figured you’d feel the same.”

Chris’ lovers were right, but…

Chris’ stomach growled so loud Stiles pried his eyes away from the TV screen. “Dude! That was amazing.”

Chris laid his hand over his belly and trudged into the kitchen. He needed a snack to take the edge off his hunger.

Chris foraged through the fridge and found a small bowl of leftover steam broccoli covered in aluminum foil.

Chris’ stomach rumbled again.

Without thinking, he marched to the microwave, thrust the bowl inside, and a set it to cook for a minute.

Chris sighed and leaned against the kitchen counter.

“Damn, you really are tired,” Stiles said from kitchen’s entrance.

Chris’ bones jumped in his skin.

Stiles held up his hands to show he meant no harm.

It wasn’t a good sign when Stiles could sneak up on Chris. Once Chris’ stomach was filled he’d drop into bed and let sweet sleep take him.

“Are you reheating the broccoli?” Stiles asked. “You took the foil off, right?”

Chris groaned when he realized he hadn’t.

“Hey, it’s probably not a big deal. You only put it in there for—”

Flames burst to life in the microwave just as Chris got his fingers on the release button.

Chris jumped backward.

Stiles yelped.

The microwave door flew outward and the flames licked the edges of the microwave.

“Get the extinguisher!” Chris seized a dish towel and soaked it under the sink’s facet. He threw the towel into the microwave, smothering half of the flames inside.

He grabbed another towel and drenched it like the first—he really wished he had gotten a sink with a hose like Peter had wanted; it would be so much easier to put out the flames with the hose than his current technique.

Stiles reappeared with an extinguisher. He fumbled with the device.

Chris dropped the towel he’d been soaking, and snatched the extinguisher out of Stiles’ hands.

In seconds, Chris was spraying the flames with pressurized carbon dioxide.

The fire died just as quickly as it had come on.

The microwave was covered in white, and flecks of the carbon dioxide floated in the smoke-filled air.

Stiles coughed and waved his hand in front of his face. “Let’s not do that again.”

“I think Peter would kill us if we did,” Chris quipped.

“Who says he isn’t going to kill you two _right now_?” The unmistakable growl of Peter’s voice came from behind Chris and Stiles, and both their backs went ramrod straight.

Chris and Stiles turned slowly and simultaneously.

Blue, glowing eyes pierced the two with such venom, it was a miracle they remained standing.

Peter’s upper lip curled back into a snarl. He glanced down at the bag of take out in his hand then held up his prize. “Neither one of you gets to eat until this mess is cleaned up, and that is assuming I don’t eat it all by myself, which I am very inclined to do.”

Peter turned to go, but stopped a second later. “Oh, and boys, the next time I step into this kitchen after you have cleaned it, if I smell or see any hints of a fire having occurred in my house, I will kill you.”

Peter strolled out of sight, pleasantly humming.

Stiles and Chris shared a look of panic.

“He’s not going to kill us,” Stiles stated, though his voice contradicted his words.

Chris nodded. “Yeah, but he’s sure as hell going to make us wish he had if we don’t get this right on the first try.”

“All right, we’re going to need bleach and air fresheners. I’ll get those, you focus on cleaning out the microwave,” Stiles delegated.

“Good plan.” Any weariness Chris had experienced prior was replaced by a surge of adrenaline as he rushed to rid the kitchen of any evidence of his blunder.


End file.
